Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE GRUMBLING HIVE; OR, KNAVES TURN'D HONEST, by BERNARD MANDEVILLE Poet's Biography First Line: A spacious hive well stocked with bees Last Line: For acorns as for honesty. Subject(s): Bees; Freedom; Insects; Beekeeping; Liberty; Bugs | ||||||||
A spacious hive well stocked with bees, That lived in luxury and ease, And yet as famed for laws and arms As yielding large and early swarms Was counted the great nursery Of sciences and industry. No bees had better government, More fickleness, or less content: They were not slaves to tyranny Nor ruled by wild democracy, But kings that could not wrong because Their power was circumscribed by laws. These insects lived like men, and all Our actions they performed in small: They did whatever's done in town, And what belongs to sword or gown; Though the artful works by nimble slight Of minute limbs 'scaped human sight, Yet we've no engines, labourers, Ships, castles, arms, artificers, Craft, science, shop, or instrument, But they had an equivalent, Which, since their language is unknown, Must be called, as we do our own. As grant that, among other things, They wanted dice, yet they had kings, And those had guards, from whence we may Justly conclude, they had some play, Unless a regiment be shown Of soldiers, that make use of none. Vast numbers thronged the fruitful hive, Yet those vast numbers made them thrive; Millions endeavouring to supply Each other's lust and vanity; While other millions were employed To see their handiworks destroyed. They furnished half the universe, Yet had more work than labourers. Some with vast stocks and little pains Jumped into business of great gains; And some were damned to scythes and spades, And all those hard laborious trades Where willing wretches daily sweat And wear out strength and limbs to eat; While others followed mysteries To which few folks bind 'prentices, That want no stock but that of brass And may set up without a cross, As sharpers, parasites, pimps, players, Pickpockets, coiners, quacks, soothsayers, And all those that in enmity With downright working, cunningly Convert to their own use the labour Of their good-natured heedless neighbour. These were called knaves, but bar the name, The grave industrious were the same: All trades and places knew some cheat; No calling was without deceit. The lawyers, of whose art the basis Was raising feuds and splitting cases, Opposed all registers that cheats Might make more work with dipped estates; As wer't unlawful that one's own Without a law-suit should be known. They kept off hearings wilfully To finger the refreshing fee; And to defend a wicked cause Examined and surveyed the laws, As burglars shops and houses do To find out where they'd best break through. Physicians valued fame and wealth Above the drooping patient's health Or their own skill: the greatest part Studied, instead of rules of art, Grave pensive looks and dull behaviour To gain the apothecary's favour, The praise of midwives, priests, and all That served at birth or funeral; To bear with the ever-talking tribe And hear my lady's aunt prescribe; With formal smile, and kind "How d'ye," To fawn on all the family; And, which of all the greatest curse is, To endure the impertinence of nurses. Among the many priests of Jove Hired to draw blessings from above, Some few were learned and eloquent, But thousands hot and ignorant: Yet all passed muster that could hide Their sloth, lust, avarice, and pride, For which they were as famed as tailors For cabbage, or for brandy sailors; Some, meagre-looked and meanly clad, Would mystically pray for bread, Meaning by that an ample store, Yet literally received no more; And while these holy drudges starved, The lazy ones, for which they served, Indulged their ease with all the graces Of health and plenty in their faces. The soldiers that were forced to fight, If they survived, got honour by it, Though some that shunned the bloody fray Had limbs shot off, that ran away: Some valiant generals fought the foe; Others took bribes to let them go: Some ventured always where 'twas warm. Lost now a leg and then an arm, Till quite disabled and put by They lived on half their salary, While others never came in play And stayed at home for double pay. Their kings were served, but knavishly, Cheated by their own ministry; Many that for their welfare slaved Robbing the very crown they saved: Pensions were small and they lived high, Yet boasted of their honesty, Calling, whene'er they strained their right, The slippery trick a perquisite; And when folks understood their cant They changed that for emolument, Unwilling to be short or plain In anything concerning gain; For there was not a bee but would Get more, I won't say than he should, But than he dared to let them know That paid for't; as your gamesters do That, though at fair play, ne'er will own Before the losers what they've won. But who can all their frauds repeat? The very stuff which in the street They sold for dirt to enrich the ground Was often by the buyers found Sophisticated with a quarter Of good-for-nothing stones and mortar, Though Flail had little cause to mutter Who sold the other salt for butter. Justice herself, famed for fair dealing, By blindness had not lost her feeling; Her left hand, which the scales should hold, Had often dropped 'em, bribed with gold; And though she seemed impartial Where punishment was corporal, Pretended to a regular course In murder and all crimes of force; Though some, first pilloried for cheating, Were hanged in hemp of their own beating, Yet it was thought the sword she bore Checked but the desperate and the poor, That, urged by mere necessity, Were tied up to the wretched tree For crimes which not deserved that fate, But to secure the rich and great. Thus every part was full of vice, Yet the whole mass a paradise; Flattered in peace and feared in wars, They were the esteem of foreigners, And lavish of their wealth and lives, The balance of all other hives. Such were the blessings of that state; Their crimes conspired to make them great: And virtue, who from politics Had learned a thousand cunning tricks, Was, by their happy influence, Made friends with vice; and ever since, The worst of all the multitude Did something for the common good. This was the state's craft that maintained The whole of which each part complained: This, as in music harmony. Made jarrings in the main agree; Parties directly opposite Assist each other, as 'twere for spite; And temperance with sobriety Serve drunkenness and gluttony. The root of evil, avarice, That damned ill-natured baneful vice, Was slave to prodigality, That noble sin; whilst luxury Employed a million of the poor, And odious pride a million more: Envy itself, and vanity, Were ministers of industry; Their darling folly, fickleness, In diet, furniture and dress, That strange ridiculous vice, was made The very wheel that turned the trade. Their laws and clothes were equally Objects of mutability; For what was well done for a time In half a year became a crime; Yet while they altered thus their laws, Still finding and correcting flaws, They mended by inconstancy Faults which no prudence could foresee. Thus vice nursed ingenuity Which, joined with time and industry, Had carried life's conveniencies, Its real pleasures, comforts, ease, To such a height, the very poor Lived better than the rich before, And nothing could be added more. How vain is mortal happiness! Had they but known the bounds of bliss, And that perfection here below Is more than gods can well bestow, The grumbling brutes had been content With ministers and government. But they, at every ill success, Like creatures lost without redress, Cursed politicians, armies, fleets, While every one cried, "Damn the cheats," And would, though conscious of his own, In others barb'rously bear none. One that had got a princely store By cheating master, king, and poor, Dared cry aloud, "The land must sink For all its fraud." And whom d'ye think The sermonizing rascal chid? A glover that sold lamb for kid. The least thing was not done amiss, Or crossed the public business, But all the rogues cried brazenly, "Good gods, had we but honesty!" Mercury smiled at the impudence, And others called it want of sense, Always to rail at what they loved: But Jove, with indignation moved, At last in anger swore he'd rid The bawling hive of fraud; and did. The very moment it departs, And honesty fills all their hearts; There shows them, like the instructive tree, Those crimes which they're ashamed to see, Which now in silence they confess By blushing at their ugliness, Like children that would hide their faults And by their color own their thoughts, Imagining, when they're looked upon, That others see what they have done. But, Oh ye gods! What consternation, How vast and sudden was the alteration! In half an hour, the nation round, Meat fell a penny in the pound. The mask hypocrisy's flung down From the great statesman to the clown: And some in borrowed looks well known Appeared like strangers in their own. The bar was silent from that day, For now the willing debtors pay Even what's by creditors forgot, Who quitted them that had it not. Those that were in the wrong stood mute And dropped the patched vexatious suit, On which, since nothing less can thrive Than lawyers in an honest hive, All, except those that got enough, With inkhorns by their sides trooped off. Justice hanged some, set others free, And after jail delivery, Her presence being no more required, With all her train and pomp retired. First marched some smiths with locks and grates, Fetters and doors with iron plates; Next jailers, turnkeys, and assistants; Before the goddess, at some distance, Her chief and faithful minister, Squire Catch, the law's great finisher, Bore not the imaginary sword But his own tools, an axe and cord; Then on a cloud the hoodwinked fair, Justice herself, was pushed by air: About her chariot, and behind, Were sergeants, bums of every kind, Tip-staffs, and all those officers That squeeze a living out of tears. Though physic lived while folks were ill. None would prescribe but bees of skill, Which, through the hive dispersed so wide That none of them had need to ride, Waved vain disputes, and strove to free The patients of their misery; Left drugs in cheating countries grown, And used the product of their own, Knowing the gods sent no disease To nations without remedies. Their clergy roused from laziness Laid not their charge on journey-bees, But served themselves, exempt from vice, The gods with prayer and sacrifice; All those that were unfit, or knew Their service might be spared, withdrew: Nor was there business for so many, If the honest stand in need of any; Few only with the high-priest stayed, To whom the rest obedience paid; Himself employed in holy cares, Resigned to others state affairs. He chased no starveling from his door, Nor pinched the wages of the poor; But at his house the hungry's fed, The hireling finds unmeasured bread, The needy traveler board and bed. Among the king's great ministers And all the inferior officers The change was great; for frugally They now lived on their salary. That a poor bee should ten times come To ask his due, a trifling sum, And by some well-hired clerk be made To give a crown, or ne'er be paid, Would now be called a downright cheat, Though formerly a perquisite. All places managed first by three Who watched each other's knavery And often for a fellow feeling Promoted one another's stealing, Are happily supplied by one, By which some thousands more are gone. No honour now could be content To live and owe for what was spent; Liveries in brokers' shops are hung; They part with coaches for a song, Sell stately horses by whole sets, And country houses to pay debts. Vain cost is shunned as much as fraud; They have no forces kept abroad, Laugh at the esteem of foreigners And empty glory got by wars; They fight, but for their country's sake. When right or liberty's at stake. Now mind the glorious hive, and see How honesty and trade agree. The show is gone, it thins apace, And looks with quite another face, For 'twas not only that they went By whom vast sums were yearly spent, But multitudes that lived on them Were daily forced to do the same. In vain to other trades they'd fly; All were o'erstocked accordingly. The price of land and houses falls; Miraculous palaces whose walls, Like those of Thebes, were raised by play Are to be let; while the once gay, Well-seated household gods would be More pleased to expire in flames, than see The mean inscription on the door Smile at the lofty ones they bore. The building trade is quite destroyed; Artificers are not employed; No limner for his art is famed; Stone-cutters, carvers are not named. Those that remained, grown temperate, strive, Not how to spend, but how to live, And, when they paid their tavern score, Resolved to enter it no more: No vintner's jilt in all the hive Could wear now cloth of gold, and thrive; Nor Torcol such vast sums advance For Burgundy and Ortelans; The courtier's gone that with his miss Supped at his house on Chrismas peas, Spending as much in two hours stay, As keeps a troop of horse a day. The haughty Chloe, to live great Had made her husband rob the state; But now she sells her furniture, Which the Indies had been ransacked for; Contracts the expensive bill of fare, And wears her strong suit a whole year: The slight and fickle age is past, And clothes, as well as fashions, last. Weavers, that joined rich silk with plate, And all the trades subordinate Are gone. Still peace and plenty reign, And everything is cheap, though plain: Kind nature, free from gardeners force, Allows all fruits in her own course; But rarities cannot be had Where pains to get them are not paid. As pride and luxury decrease, So by degrees they leave the seas. Not merchants now, but companies Remove whole manufactories. All arts and crafts neglected lie; Content, the bane of industry, Makes them admire their homely store And neither seek nor covet more. So few in the vast hive remain, The hundredth part they can't maintain Against the insults of numerous foes, Whom yet they valiantly oppose, Till some well-fenced retreat is found, And here they die or stand their ground. No hireling in their army's known; But bravely fighting for their own, Their courage and integrity At last were crowned with victory. They triumphed not without their cost, For many thousand bees were lost. Hardened with toils and exercise, They counted ease itself a vice, Which so improved their temperance That, to avoid extravagance, They flew into a hollow tree, Blest with content and honesty. The Moral Then leave complaints: fools only strive To make a great an honest hive. To enjoy the world's conveniencies, Be famed in war, yet live in ease, Without great vices is a vain Utopia seated in the Brain. Fraud, luxury, and pride must live, While we the benefits receive: Hunger's a dreadful plague, no doubt, Yet who digests or thrives without? Do we not owe the growth of wine To the dry, shabby, crooked vine? Which, while its shoots neglected stood, Choked other plants, and ran to wood; But blessed us with its noble fruit As soon as it was tied and cut: So vice is beneficial found, When it's by justice lopped and bound; Nay, where the people would be great, As necessary to the state As hunger is to make 'em eat. Bare virtue can't make nations live In splendor; they, that would revive A Golden Age, must be as free For acorns as for honesty. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE EXHAUSTED BUG; FOR MY FATHER by ROBERT BLY PLASTIC BEATITUDE by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR BEETLE LIGHT; FOR DANIEL HILLEN by MADELINE DEFREES CLEMATIS MONTANA by MADELINE DEFREES THOMAS MERTON AND THE WINTER MARSH by NORMAN DUBIE ON HONOUR by BERNARD MANDEVILLE |
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